Change of Plan
by Kara Crane
Summary: In the aftermath of the Stampede, Scar doesn't send the Hyenas after Simba. He decides it better to turn the traumatized cub to his way of thinking ... This story is being taken over by arashi wolf princess


**Disclaimer: Lion King doesn't belong to me!**

**Note: An au, a different take on the aftermath of the stampede. Scar's Plan has changed ... Story up for adoption!**

"Simba. What have you done?"

"I ... the wildebeests ... and he tried to save me ... it was an accident, I didn't mean for it to happen!"

"Of course, of course you didn't. No one ... ever _means_ for these things to happen. But the king is dead. If it weren't for you, he'd still be alive." Scar gasped in mock horror. "What will your mother think?"

"What ... what am I supposed to do?"

Scar looked at the little cub. _Really_ looked. Simba was on the verge of tears and looking up to him to tell him what to do. _He_ was the only adult male in the pride now, and Simba trusted his 'uncle Scar' implicitly. He could do no wrong in the cubs' eyes.

The Plan changed.

"I know you are not at fault Simba. That this was an unfortunate accident. But the Pride loved Mufasa, and they will think you did this on purpose so you could be king."

"No!" Simba whimpered brokenly as he clutched his uncle's foreleg. Scar could hear the faint voices of the pride as they ran toward them. He had to act fast.

"I'm here for you Simba. You can trust me to take care of everything for you, to teach you the lessons your father no longer can, to teach you to be a _great_ King."

"Simba!" Sarabi cried as she and the lionesses rounded the corner and spotted her son. Simba turned his head away. "Simba?" She asked softly as she padded over. When no answer was forthcoming from her cub she turned to Scar. "Scar, what happened? Where's Mufasa?" At the mention of his father, Simba began sobbing brokenly. Scar gently rested his paw on Simba's shaking body.

"... There has been an accident." He told her solemnly and motioned to the body under the broken tree with a jerk of his head.

"Wha ... no ... NO! Mufasa! MUFASA!" She roared in heartbroken agony and the other lionesses joined her voice with theirs.

The sky was ever darkening as evening came. And in the heart of the gloom was Pride Rock. On top of a slope Scar sat, green eyes swept over the pride as they gathered below to hear his speech. For until Simba was grown, Scar would rule; and worry was visible on some of the lionesses. Simba sat beside his uncle, head and gaze low.

Perfect.

"Mufasa's death was a terrible tragedy. Depriving the Pride Lands of a beloved king, father and brother." A few head among the lionesses shot up at this. It was well known that Mufasa and Scar hadn't been close. "The quarrels between Mufasa and I were numerous, and our interactions were often veiled by a thin layer of civility. However to be a good teacher to Simba, to be a good ruler until he is of age, I lay all my arguments to rest with my dear brother. So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne." He stood, his lanky frame illuminated by a thin sliver of moonlight bravely peeking through the clouds. "Come Simba." Together they walked to the tip of the stone slab and Scar roared; telling any rogues that would dare try their luck at the throne that it was still ruled by an adult male ready to defend his territory. As his roar filled the air, Simba looked up for the first time since Mufasas death, his eyes filled with adoration and worship for his Uncle Scar.

The Pridelands were finally his! For the time being anyway. He needed to talk to those hyenas; without attracting attention. That hadn't been a problem when Mufasa was alive, he'd been left to his own devices usually. But now he was under the scrutinizing eyes of the pride. How to pull this off ...?

"Uncle Scar?"

He could get Zazu to arrange a meeting with the painted dog leader ... they and hyenas were practically cousins ...

"Uncle?"

But last he'd heard, the two hadn't been on speaking terms ... if only speaking to Shenzi wouldn't cast such a dark shadow of suspicion ...!

"Uncle Scar!" The shout of his nephew broke his line of thought; he turned with a snarl.

"What?!" Simba cringed and his tail vanished between his legs. Scar turned his anger into his normal, apathetic half-lidded gaze. "I was thinking about a problem. What is it Simba?"

"Umm ... what kind of problem is it?"

"Hyenas." He admitted before realizing what he'd said. Inwardly he cursed. Anger filled Simba's eyes.

"Stupid, mangy ..." The little cub growled.

"No!" He snapped. A vague notion began to form. "No. Never speak of the hyenas in such a way around me."

"Why?"

"Because Simba, once upon a time, they were the only friends I had." The idea took root, cast the hyenas in a better light. The tactic had failed with Mufasa and his father, but Simba was still young enough to believe it.

Simba's brow furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and thought. "But ... the pride ..." He began. Scar cut him off.

"Cared only for Mufasa. He was the heir to the kindom; and I, his unexpected little brother was hidden in his very large shadow." He really began hamming it up, enthralling the young cub with his 'tale of woe'. "Only my dear mother cared for me, paid the same attention to me as she gave to Mufasa. Every day my father, Ahadi, would take Mufasa and teach him everything he would need to know as king. The lionesses paid me little mind and all the other cubs followed their example. So I was left alone."

"Didn't ... didn't dad care? I know if I had a brother I'd never leave him."

"Of course he did, and when he returned every night he would tell me what he'd learned." He paused to draw upon his memories for inspiration, then he realised they'd gotten off the original topic of conversation. His stories of their youth had done their job, Simba was captivated and there wasn't a lioness in earshot of them. "Those long, lonely days were spent wandering the savannah. On one such journey, I came across three hyena cubs playing. Hidden in the tall grass, I watched them for some time. And at that point, I had never felt my lack of friends hurt so much. They were suspicious of me at first, but our youth helped us overcome that and we played as though we were all of the same family."


End file.
